


Sins All Our Own

by Anonymous



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dark fic, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Other, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Tentacle Rape, Torture, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 21:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You've made mistakes. This is the worst one.





	Sins All Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my friend, River, whose birthday passed. I hope they enjoyed this! It was not easy for my nimble hands to write.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm lying. It totally was.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. You never  _ thought _ -

And that was always the root of the problem, wasn’t it? You never thought before you said anything, you never took your friends into consideration, you never kept your mouth shut. It cost you―all of you, everyone you knew and loved―too much. It always did, it always ended badly for so many of you. And you… You never learned. You never thought back to your previous mistakes and you never remembered the fact that this was all because of your actions.

Carlos was in pain and it was because of you. You did this. You were the reason they were hurting him, you were the reason that Carlos-

_ Cecil… _

He said your name with such little conviction. They were relentless in their assaults against him, he had little time to even  _ breathe _ between every attack. They were breaking him down, little by little, until there would be nothing left of him. They could have done anything to you and you wouldn’t have cared. There was so little to care about when it came to yourself. But the moment they threatened him, the moment they used Carlos against you? You couldn’t help but crack beneath the pressure.

They didn’t stop what they were doing to him. They didn’t stop, even when you  _ begged  _ and  _ pleaded  _ and  _ promised _ .

And now he was lying in front of you. They had bruised and broken him, your perfect, sweet, Carlos. They didn’t touch you but they  _ used _ him, until there was nothing left of him to use. They threw him at your feet, looked you in your eye and they told you that this was your doing. They told you he was like this because you were careless. They forced it into your head, told you again and again just to reaffirm what you already knew. What you had known when they first started, what you had known when they wrung scream after scream from him.

Carlos didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be treated like their rag doll and play thing. He didn’t deserve to have his life permanently altered by coming to Night Vale. He didn’t deserve what interacting with you has cost him.

_ Ce...cil… _

They wouldn’t leave him alone. When you thought they were done they dragged him away from you again, strung him up by his wrists and took to hurting him. They cut and bruised and scratched and clawed until he could do no more than fade in and out of consciousness. He was not coherent anymore. You were nearly sure he was not anything like his former self anymore.

The only thing he seemed able to articulate was your name.

They went against everything Carlos believed in. Science didn’t matter to these monsters if they couldn’t twist it to suit their needs. When he wouldn’t help them they turned to trying to use you, and when he wouldn’t waver they took to trying to break him.

Their plans backfired, you thought. Because even when he could have screamed and cried and told them what they wanted to hear, Carlos didn’t speak. He didn’t tell them anything. You wished that was the worst of it. You wished they had left things there.

But when they saw no other way to hurt him, they started touching him. They touched him with disgusting hands and horrid, slimy, appendages, when he was weak and could do nothing more to fight against them. They ripped away what was left of his clothes and forced you to watch as they spread his legs as wide as they would go, too wide, as if they weren’t sure what limits a human body could stretch to.

He did not show that he was in pain. He had not shown many emotions for hours. You were not even sure he was still awake at this point, his eyes glazed over in what seemed to be a daze.

They pressed into him. You watched with a feeling low in your gut, something churning as they spread him open in ways you had done only once before, but worse than that. When you did nothing but watch, words failing you, that was when they used the worst method of all.

They used your own voice to coax him into agreeing. Clips and sounds, cut together from daily routine and broadcasts. As if trying to soothe him, trying to get Carlos to give in willingly. You felt that the worst of it wasn’t that they were using  _ you _ . The worst of it was the way he looked up towards you, breathing your name (a soft, nearly relieved,  _ Cecil _ ) as he allowed himself to be opened up to their prying hands and intrusive touching.

They used the little comfort he had found in your voice to break him apart from the inside, pushing their appendages into him, one and then many, oozing slick within him and stretching, stretching, until they managed to ring another cry from him.

_ Cecil, no! _

He was pleading with a you that wasn’t there, a you that could not possibly be touching him because you were so far away. But they mimicked your voice, told him to simply allow it to happen, until Carlos was broken anew. Tears, streaming down his face mingling with other fluids as they began pushing large…  _ objects _ into him, each one causing him to cry out in pain and fear that you had not known was still within him.

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t you, that you would never do this to him! But you feared what they might do to him if you spoke, if you used the one thing Carlos had left to try to snap his mind from the manipulative hold they had on him. They had managed to wring more emotion out of him, as if pulling from a well running too dry.

_ Cecil, pl…ease… _

They let him fall to the floor when they were done with him. You watched his limp body fall when the appendages pulled out of him and the probing hands were done. You watched someone faceless approach, a thick, heavy, collar in their hands and easily fasten around his neck, pulled too tight you were sure. The chain it was connected to was just long enough to let the faceless person drag Carlos’ body to you. They dumped him at your feet, allowing you to get a good, long, look at him.

You could take in everything you hadn’t been able to before, from the deep gashes down his back to the bruises along his ribs to his distended belly, still packed full of whatever objects they had pushed into him.

“Tell him you love him, Cecil,” a familiar, horrifyingly happy, voice said, followed by sinister chuckle. “Tell. Him.”

_ I-I love you, C-Carlos… _

The words were stuttered. You didn’t know what would happen if you didn’t say them, what they would threaten to do to him if you disobeyed. But you knew it made you just a little bit sick when you realized just what they were trying to do.

_ I… l…love… you… too… Cec…il… _

It was such a broken phrase, with a broken smile accompanying it, as if he was happy to be near you when you knew it was misguided and misplaced. They untied you so that you could fall to your knees and gather him into your arms, holding him close, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes because you did this.

**You did this to him.**

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. That happened.


End file.
